Love as Defined by Grimmjow
by Pollux Unbound
Summary: Grimmjow writes in his diary, 'The problem with me is, I keep wanting to drop dead whenever he gets near me. And then one day he kisses me.' GrimmIchi Yaoi
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Love as Defined by Grimmjow

**Summary**: Grimmjow writes in his diary, 'The problem with me is I keep wanting to die whenever he gets near me. And then one day he kisses me.' GrimmIchi. On-going. GrimmjowxIchigo

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach; genius Kubo Tite does.

**A/N**: Explicit language ahead.

The lines in bold font are Grimmjow's dialogs, meaning he's saying them aloud.

--

_**Date**__: FIRST DAY in Soul Society as an ally to the Shinigami after getting kicked out of Hueco Mundo by the Major Bitch_

Yoh Journal,

I have one lovely intriguing question for ya. How does someone do it? How does someone get away with attempted murder in full view of twelve un-blind people in BROAD DAYLIGHT and have it pass on as just a fucking joke? But before you answer that, lemme give you a more or less impeccably accurate account of what happened to me today. So there I was, walking tall on the pavement, when someone out of nowhere pulled me to somewhere I DIDN'T want to be. The next thing I knew was, I standing in front of thirteen chicks and dudes and was being introduced to people I DIDN'T want to be introduced to.

"**What's this, a Hall of Fame reception for being a jerk?" **

Everyone was laughing his head off until some redhead punk snipped through,

"We are the Vice-Captains of Soul Society. Ichigo Kurosaki here, you know him—he's your nemesis after all—has been recently named Vice-Captain of the Thirteenth Division, so you might _wanna_ congratulate _him_."

Okay.

That was gonna be easy.

Yeah fucking right.

_Thump… thump… thump… thump…_

I will be a considerate asshole here and will accept the event as something that's purely subjected to accident. I mean, you CAN'T _accuse_ someone of giving you a heart-attack simply by announcing someone else's promotion, much less count it as a murder attempt…

…or can you?

So I nodded, acknowledged the newly promoted haughty bastard with a faint scorn, and—

_Thump… thump… thump… thump…_

You know what? I changed my mind. I'd sue his ass for intuiting me to undergo cardiac arrest.

"**What's your name?"**

"Abarai Renji at your service."

I happened to have grasped the full extent of the laws around here, and I remembered that one is _allowed_ to slay another soul under the conditions of self-defense and whatnot. Renji Abarai, apparently, had struck gold by plotting in a murder on _me, _ingeniously. Right around this time, the fucking redhead of a retard had nudged me in the goddamn ribs and whispered to me, with about a little less than sixty million malicious intents,

"Shake hands with Ichigo! I _know_ you _want_ it."

Tell ya what, fuck that. Shake hands. His hand in mine. Mine in his. Our hands uniting. Shaking. Holding hands... Fuck that, really. Can you even imagine that?? My fucking genius heart was doing a frantic onslaught against my ribcage by beating like a goddamn jackhammer chipping down an entire ten-million storey building when genius Renji, genius fucking Renji, grabbed my wrist, grabbed the newly appointed Vice-Captain's wrist, and made shit happen. Skin to skin. Skin to fucking skin. Skin2skin.

My heartbeat had set me up all ready to get carted to the morgue when suddenly, fucking suddenly, the new Thirteenth Division's Lieutenant thrust his face like INCHES from mine, like so close, this fucking close, thisfuckingclose, closeenoughtokissmelikethis and asked,

"Are you okay, Grimmjow?"

I was really okay, except that I really NEEDED to be embalmed. And that's aside from the fact that his face was so close to mine and one wrong move would be a sure FIRST kiss for me. This is the day, the fateful, heralded, time-immemorially marked day, that a sixteen-year old Shinigami boy with orange-hair and huge Zanpakotou became The Death of Me. Renji is like my Soon-To-Be-Murderer but this one, Kurosaki Ichigo, yeah, he's the death of me, I'm sure.

"**Of course I'm fucking okay."**

"You don't look like you're fine." The Death of Me said as though he was trying to press something out of me which, apparently, could not be pressed out of me because no one will be able to press _that_ out of me while I fucking live!

"Why Ichigo, do I smell earnest, _affectionate_ concern?"

Redhead genius and his genius mouth doing some genius talking and genius ex-Espada-tormenting-before-murdering.

Last time I checked, last time being four minutes ago, these chicks and dudes were just about as polite as a bunch of flight stewardesses, and now, right at this moment, they were snickering the lights out of the fucking heavens, which made me wonder, why were these morons breaking their necks trying, with great effort, to be the most gorgeous Jerks of my life?

I started to saunter away, leaving behind half of my goddamn wits, away from the fucking sniggering and all them epileptic maniacs when suddenly, fucking suddenly, The Death of Me came hobbling AFTER ME.

Wow.

Have you ever experienced wanting to do everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, just to get _something_ done but then everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, would do anything, and I mean ANYTHING, just to get it UNDONE? That's just about what was happening. I wanted to fucking stay cool, composed, and reserved or AT LEAST sane, but then the lovely people with whom you share the world would just _not_ allow that.

"Is something wrong, Grimmjow?" The Death of Me asked _again_ when we hiked up a decent distance from the fucking wolfish pack of Vice-Captains.

My heart was fucking overdosed with caffeine and just about _every_ adrenaline booster ever been manufactured or imagined, and I was in DIRE need of a sedative. SedativeS. I was toiling about, trying to look cool when I realized that The Death of Me was just exactly the same sort of person who _hates_ to make you look cool if you are in a situation where you REALLY need to look cool.

"**I said I'm effing fine."**

So, little old center of my cardio system, my pretty fist-sized heart, was thumping around like fucking CRAZY it was hardly tolerable. For some fucking holy reason, it chose the most gorgeous time of the day to thump like crazy, and if you can explain why, you ARE clearly Einstein. Quit denying already; I'm worshipping you.

"I can hear your heartbeat from here."

That _really_ needed to be said because you could practically watch my chest barf a particular organ out of itself. So, I'm efficiently one step closer to the grave, thanks to the terrific Death of Me, and I still didn't know what to say.

"**I'm fine."**

"What are you so nervous about?"

Really, this could go on for hours, maybe days, provided that I _wouldn't_ die of cardiac arrest within the span of 72 hours of standing there being _this_ close to him.

"**You're so near."**

I said that. I really did. What I needed most was an exorcist. This wasn't me in my hot self of a body speaking like a hopeless romantic woman who just about lost her man in a fucking world war. Man! Expel this goddamn shit from me.

"Do you want me to go away?"

And then there was this song that started to reel in my head which went like _"…you said you wouldn't, you said you couldn't…don't go…you said as I walked out your door…"_

"**Stay with me."**

"…"

"…"

_Stay with me_. Know what, send in your fucking eulogies. I don't want an empty tombstone. The temperature was steadily climbing, but, hell, my sweat was fucking Antarctica. He wasn't answering; he just gawked at me like he had gone mute, and theoretically speaking, this could be completely possible given that he had heard the monstrosity I just uttered. Aloud. Shit. Submit your fucking eulogies now or I'd die without one. He was still staring. I expectantly flung my face up to the sky and checked out the surroundings, and surprisingly, shockingly, appallingly, there was _no_ evidence that human race was facing mass extinction and no sign of the world's approaching annihilation…

_Was it too much to ask for a little fucking END OF THE WORLD??_

Mother Nature had _never_ disappointed me THIS much until now.

"Well then, I'll _stay _with you for as long as you like."

"…"

Okay.

Sure.

Yeah.

Fucking right.

Next time, I'd be more perceptive and I'll have paramedics nearby in case some pregnant women are around so that there'd be baby-catchers for the babies to be SHOCKED out of their birth canals. But more importantly, WHAT IN GOD'S NAME DID HE JUST SAY??

Well, it's official; HE'S IN LOVE WITH ME. Might as well live with the fact. I'm signing out; I'm still in a state of tremendous shock here. And I'm having these terrible menstrual cramps from his love confession, and, man, I'M A MAN! Jesus. This has been a long day. 'Til next time.

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

_--_

_**TBC**_

A/N: This is written in order to get some weight outta my mind and really, this piece has NO substance whatsoever but I will be finishing this story.


	2. Chapter 2

_**--**_

_**Date**_:_ SECOND DAY in Soul Society as an ally to the Shinigami after getting kicked out of Hueco Mundo by the Major Bitch_

_Yoh, Journal,_

As you are very well aware of the recent events of my wonderful life, perhaps you won't be surprised upon discovering that everything is just on the right track and NOTHING is out of the fucking ordinary…

EXCEPT EVERYTHING. Everything is as fucked up as a fucking hole in the head.

So, it all started fine; you know, second days are never special as far as world history is aware, and then the world fell down fucking headlong to chaos.

Enter Kurosaki Ichigo and Renji Abarai. Tandem in mayhem. Mayhem in Tandem. The Lovely Death of Me side by side with my Soon-To-Be-Murderer.

I was chowing down my bland breakfast, my face was fucking two quarters of a millimeter from the fucking bowl so the duo wouldn't see me, and…too late. Too fucking late. It was too late for me to remember I had TEAL for a hair color.

"Grimmjow, wanna come slaughter some of _your_ folks with us?" My Soon-To-Be-Murderer went over me to ask one of his ten million dopey questions for the goddamn day.

"_**Can't**_** you two handle it?" **I asked**. **Hahaha. Take that, bastard. Haha, you gotta love Grimmjow Jaggerjack.

Redhead retard blinked at me, and then he smirked with a fake smirk which had all the perfect completeness of a lie. Hahaha. And then he gave me the reason why he fucking smirked,

"Well, I was just asking since Ichigo here is tagging along. I was thinking that since he's coming, _you_ might wanna come too."

Okay. _You fucking win_. Sometimes, you just have to give people props for managing to pull off some grand Jack-assed-ness in such a short duration of time; like, I _can't_ even rub my eye given the same amount of time even if flash-step were involved, if ya know what I mean.

"**I'll come. Whatfuckingever."**

And then I shoved my exciting oatmeal breakfast down my throat, because for some ungodly reason, I wanted to demonstrate punctuality and all and appear nice and neat to the Lovely Death of Me who was waiting at the dining hall's doorway.

And then it hit me, it hit me like a goddamn fucking train wreck that Renji Abarai was trying to get his murderous schemes to material fulfillment again, and no; he ain't gonna get any,

"**I'm not going."**

He eyed me insidiously like I was just exactly the type of bastard who liked to fall in his goddamn lair. So he put an arm _around_ The Lovely Death of Me, and, boy, did they become instantly the death of Grimmjow Jaggerjack. So I just about renounced my sanity right then and there and went like,

"**Fucking fine. Fucking coming, asshole."**

So my Soon-To-Be-Murderer flashed me a fabulous self-satisfied smile, which wasn't exactly something to upset myself about, but I was fucking pissed as hell anyway. So bottom line: Renji Abarai, aka my Soon-To-Be-Murderer, is a goddamn jerk whose transcendent jerk-ness eclipses all the jerk-ness of the world and beyond, encompassing his own jerk-ness.

"It's okay if he doesn't wanna come." Kurosaki said.

The Death of Me is really something, huh? I'd consented to come, and though fucking grudgingly, in the end I did consent to come. So what was with him contaminating the beautiful morning with being grumpy and a fucking snob, and frankly, he could go to hell with Renji.

Maybe not. No. That was a joke.

"**I want to come." **

My honesty, if there remained any, could soon vanish for lack of use.

So we plowed ahead to some plane somewhere over the hills and far away where rainbows flow over the sky and _seabirds fly and mermaids cry and one's tears would dry…_

I know, I know, I fucking know it's a set of lyrics to some tear-jerking song, okay? Geez. What could I do anyway? The place was a fucking blast! There were butterflies everywhere, and you wouldn't be surprised to find dragons in pink wings with heart patterns on them…fuck. There was no fucking way this place was infested with Hollows. NO WAY. Oh, Renji, you bloody sonuvabitch, I ma have your balls yagged—

"I'm sorry, guys, Captain Kuchiki just called, and yeah, that means I'm _leaving_ this place to you."

You really have to experience the scope of one's jerk-ness to believe it. Experience to believe. So, there I was, chin touching the ground, gaping incredulously at the jerkology he just about performed on me when…

…when Renji fucking tromped off, leaving me alone…

…alone with the Death of Me…

…in this candy land…

…alone with Kurosaki.

I looked to my right. He wasn't there so I looked to my left. He wasn't there either. And at my back; no luck, and oh, he was in front of me. LOOKING AT ME. Looking THROUGH me. So I was in a stupor as hazel eyes locked on mine. Turbid agony to the max. Was doing stifled murmurings of some random thoughts, and I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING. But, man, he was still looking at me, so I looked back, maybe; can't be too sure, but dang! He strode closer, like maddeningly closer, so fucking close now, insanely close in fact, so close it was driving me nuts, even more MaDdEnInG ThAn ThIs.

"So, I guess it's you and me again."

You and me. Him and me. The Lovely Death of Me and me. Kurosaki Ichigo and Grimmjow Jaggerjack under the same blue sky which was fissured with the most magnificent clouds you ever saw.

"**Yeah, I guess so. When are the lame-ass hollows gonna show up? I gotta warm Pantera up."**

That wasn't too hard to pull. Top that. Eighteen words in all.

And then crash-landing...

"Hollows? Who said there were hollows here? This place is the _purest_ place in the world. We call this The Sanctuary because hollows can't desecrate it with their presence"

I stared at him.

I blinked at him.

I gaped at him.

What in bloody fuck did he mean when he said there were no Hollows in there?

I was all polished to smite, maul, and slay with my beloved Pantera when shit. Never mind my good-for-nothing preparation; do you realize what was going on?? Redhead fucktard set me up on a romantic DATE and had left me with only a vestige of my fucking wits in doing so. So now I had to fucking—

Wait.

A.

Goddamn.

Second.

"**Hollows **_**can't**_** enter this realm? I'M A FRIGGIN' HOLLOW!"**

He looked at me with the sort of look that told me I just about broadcasted to ten million galaxies that I didn't know SOMETHING that ALL the inhabitants of those ten million galaxies knew.

"Let me rephrase that; unpurified souls cannot pass through the barrier in which this threshold is enclosed. Be you a hollow or not, if you had a pure soul, there'd be no restraints nor impediments for you in trying to get in here."

Oh. Okay. So that simplified the whole matter. Like—

Holy motherfucking crap.

Pure soul. Grimmjow Jaggerjack.

Pure Soul. Me.

Untainted soul. Handsome Bastard Me

They. Just. Can't. Be. Flocked. Up. In. A. Single. Sentence. Hell, even letters don't wanna agree with that!

This is bullshit. And I have KEEN eyes for spotting bullshit. Blood was mounting in my head, and I just couldn't process what was going on.

"**Grand bullshit. I'm like the cruelest, most destructive being you'll ever meet, YET here I am, fucking communing with nature in THIS place. WHAT IS GOING ON?"**

He laughed heartily. Fucking cute. Almost blew my mind off. I could just imagine me laughing along…maybe I couldn't. Can't. So he stared at me again, and it was enough to give me a goddamn complex, what with my cheeks flushing color. And, darn, he was at _it_ again. Staring. If staring were personified, he'd probably marry it. Dang. He was doing it pensively, and I knew I had to brace myself because he was about to bolster me with one million pieces of information which _didn't _exist before he yapped about them. He was mulling over real hard and real LONG that he might have aged eight years while doing so, and me, ten thousand years while waiting for the splendid answer, and what the fuck. All the fucking looooooooooooong while he had his eyes _attached_ to mine.

"Do you even have to ask me that? Come on, what's the one thing you're capable of that every other hollow you know can't pull off? Something that can be considered as a pure heart's expertise?"

That got me thinking. I'm capable of—

Well.

"**You tell me."**

What with the impossible expanse of the possible answers in tow, I opted to be on the safe side for the sake of not exposing my no-education ass second time around in two minutes. Bad move. He started staring again, possibly employing a new technique called Shinigami Laser Eye Beam, and I was about to sweat myself shitless with nervousness. For some reason. For some fucking reason.

"Love."

"**Eh?"**

"It's love. The answer is love. You're capable of love while everyone else in Hueco Mundo is NOT."

You can randomly dig in your nails to whatever it is you're holding right now if you want your reading to be accompanied by a cacophony of stupid scratching sounds. SHIT. Holy shit.

Fucking busted.

"**A-are you fucking sure?"**

"This plane never lies. The Sanctity never lies. You are in love, Grimmjow Jaggerjack; you _currently_ are. For that very reason, you're capable of gracing this holy ground."

I—I'm gonna sign out for now to relieve me of the weight that's pulling my mind to Hell's core. So, that's just about it for now.

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

--

**TBC**

**A/N**: Holy shit holy shit holy shit...Bleach manga chapter 317 is out, check it out!! I ain't spoiling anyway, it's just that it's out now!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Date**__: THIRD DAY as an ally to the Shinigami of Soul Society after getting kicked out of Hueco Mundo by the Major Bitch_

Dear Journal,

You know, me and hysterics never really panned in out, like NEVER. So I'm just cool here. So in this solitary state of coolness, I shall now narrate to you the third day adventure of the dazzling protagonist of this charming tale, which involves love revelations, an unfolding of an inevitable romance, and the unraveling of the mysteries of the human heart in a world DEVOID OF FUCKING REALITY. What in bloody fuck just happened? Let's rewind the goddamn film reel, and see for yourselves.

1, 2, and 3,

I awoke at the sun's fucking blatancy poking heat in my eyes, so I hurtled off the goddamn bed, and being the hateful git that I am, I just about cursed my nuts off on everything I laid my hand on, and what do you know; behind me was a whole damn day of a catastrophic joke. A calamitous brunt of fate. A tragic sport of destiny.

I dipped my head in the tub to rinse me off the imbecilic memories of my so misbegotten, disjointed, fuckingly adorable second day in Soul Society.

I remembered having been accused of the accursed, baneful, four-letter word when, fuck, the eventuality of such event is just about a flagrant disregard to logic and everything that's fixed. When something is fixed, you show reverence to it. You don't try to dismantle it or blaspheme it or try to do anything that may insult it. When I say, Grimmjow Jaggerjack is NOT in love, then you live with it, accept it, and hail it as the immutable, unalterable truth. Get it?

So. He asked me, he, The Lovely Death of Me, most popularly known as Ichigo,

"The whole of this affair PROVES that you are indeed in love with a certain someone, Grimmjow. Am I correct?"

He. Fucking. Asked. Me. That.

He really did. Him. Of all fucking pricks.

"**There must be some kind of a mistake. You Shinigami people are fucking sick in the nuts, man. Like, why would you even invent/construct/design a thingy place that determines if someone is in love or not? Man, that's just perverted. Privacy, man."**

And he was STARING at me again with such an indecipherable touch to it that I was certain he was gonna do something between raping me and nothing. Yeah, somewhere in between.

"Look at you; you're all funny-looking and baffled. I'll get straight to the point because the rumors are really going rampant; are you in love with ME?"

"**..."**

Question marks can really kill you. I swear, man.

At this point, I started hearing a gruesomely tiny girlish voice from somewhere, begging in the most sympathy-inspiring fashion it could afford, _"kill me…please kill me…"_ I kept hearing the goddamn impish voice so I looked wildly around to locate its originator, in which case I'd be able to kill it and shut it up, and oh fuck; all to no avail. There was no little girl in sight; only me and Kurosaki on the enchanting landscape. So I resigned with the acceptance that the ghastly voice was the product of my barely-there sanity. It was all foreign to my experience, but I accepted it anyway. Hearing voices, yeah, it happens to EVERYONE once in a while so—

"…_kill me…fucking kill me…"_

Kurosaki, the Lovely Death of Me, was staring at me; this time with a brutally peculiar glare for no understandable reason. YET. I was about to say 'Don't look at me like that' when my voice was drowned by—

"…_**kill me…fucking kill me…"**_

I was struggling to the point of tears. REAL TEARS OF PAIN. It came to me, to us, that the voice, hear this carefully, the voice, the goddamn girly creepy little voice was, get this and brace yourself, coming from…

…_drum roll ala grande_…

ME.

That was ME begging ME to kill ME in a GIRLISH voice. What the fuck. All because he, the most convenient source of my exasperation, the Lovely Death of Me, asked me if I was in love with HIM.

I might have excreted blood from my eyes because the next thing I knew was, Kurosaki was smiling DOWN on me (down on me because I was on my fucking knees) with pitying eyes of consolation. Well, fuck that. I didn't need shit.

"There. You DON'T have to answer that. I'm sorry I shocked you."

He sounded as though he was GENUINELY concerned about my safety when he just about compelled me to wail like a five-year old human girl. Yeah, you can just eat ten babies in succession and tell everyone 'It was an accident!'. Fuck that.

So there were my fucking sentiments laid bare: I asked ME in a GIRLY sniffing stifled voice to kill ME. If you translate that to its broadest possible context, what you'd get is that I wanted to die right then and there rather than answer the question he asked me. And he went over me, comforting me with his magnificently soothing words. Yeah.

I hate it. I hate it when people DON'T kill you when you just about asked them nicely to. Nicely. Hell, I was even begging! Crying, in a girly voice!

So, that has to be the most attractive second day you ever heard. I shall close the curtains now and commence the story of the third day.

So. The Vice Captains did this daily morning meeting, and I was asked to fucking attend it too and I did so without thoughts of protest. And I might as well walk into some fucking gallows. By the time the shit was done, all them Lieutenants exploded with an applause, which almost induced an ear-bleed, and fuck that. I looked around and fucking guess what? They were clapping for ME.

Wow. Just great. I mean, with the population count of the goddamn community, you'd expect at least one person to possess a goddamn brain. There were all thirteen of them and no brains whatsofuckingever.

"**What's the fucking idea?"**

"I congratulate you, Grimmjow Jaggerjack, for being capable of setting foot on The Sanctuary Plane." Tattoo-face 69 told me.

Let's add him to the fucking line-up.

"**Who the fuck are you?"**

"Hisagi Shuuhei, vice-captain and acting captain of the Ninth Division. Kaname Tousen was my captain."

Yada yada too much information—fuck. That figured. He had a jerk for a captain, and now the contagious powers of jerk-ness were passed on to him.

"**Tousen's a fucking jerk."**

"He's a traitor, but the last thing he is is a jerk. Anyway, who's the lucky lady your heart is beating for?"

Back to the fucking line-up; there's Renji Abarai as my Soon-To-Be-Murderer; Kurosaki Ichigo as the Lovely Death of Me; and now I present to you Hisagi Shuuhei, my Maker of Despair. All of them, all fucking three of them, were circled around me like a flock of hungry vultures spelling death and all. Man.

"**Stop talking shit."**

"There's nothing wrong with being in love. I mean, we perhaps don't even KNOW who _she_ is. Or do we?"

My Soon-To-Be-Murderer and The Lovely Death of Me were like watching their comrade mutilate me, and all that was missing were a fucking bucket of popcorn and some Barcelona Chair, and oh fucking hell. So there I was, trying to get myself killed by my Maker of Despair when suddenly, fucking suddenly, some gorgeous knight in shining armor came to rescue me, which just about amplified my necessity to STOP breathing to tenfold.

"Hisagi-san, let him be. Time will reveal. For now, let's spare him"

My rescuer was Kurosaki. The Lovely Death of Me. Now I fucking owe him my life which wasn't even valuable to start with. What the hell, I'm bouncing out.

I plodded away from another episode of humiliation after getting my pride pricked by some bastard Hisagi Shuuhei who, more or less, had exhausted all his jerk-ness reserves by persecuting them all ON ME all at fucking once.

Alone again.

Not.

_Man, is there no fucking respect for boundaries in this goddamn place??_

Lovely Death of Me alarm went raising bloody havoc in my ears.

"**What do you want, Kurosaki?"**

"Same thing I asked you yesterday; are you in love with me?"

How does someone pull something _that _horrendous from under his tongue and manage to keep a straight face at the same fucking time?

"**Yeah. So fucking what?"**

"…"

Shit.

The problem with me is—

—the problem with me is big.

Fucking big. THIS BIG. The problem with me is, I CAN'T fucking lie whenever the situation calls for it desperately, and what with its rampancy, you can just fucking have a medical condition named after me.

He was at it AGAIN. Staring. If someone could bail me outta this staring challenge, well, you are GOD.

"Well, that clears it."

Of course it did. Cleared my head until no brain was left. Fuck this shit. Awkward torment. More awkward torment when he came flitting towards me until he was this near, thisnear, thisfuckingnear to me, and it could have been all better, you know, if he just stayed rooted to where he was, but instead,

INSTEAD,

Fucking instead,

He fucking kissed me on my left cheek where my hollow mask wasn't.

This dude ain't for real, like, man, his tormenting tendencies are cutting edge, man.

Man.

If I so happen to be found dead by tomorrow morning with a shotgun tip in my mouth and a hole blasted in my head, you know WHO to blame.

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

--

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

_**--**_

_**Date**__: FOURTH DAY as an ally to the Shinigami of Soul Society after getting kicked out of Hueco Mundo by the Major Bitch_

Dear Journal,

I'm not sure if I can stick around for another day in this hell hole. Here I am, wrung to the last and final point of endurance because I'm barely accustomed to exposure of this sort. Who is anyway?? Man, I got fucking kissed!

Okay. I'm calming down by degrees now. That was yesterday. Now is…the day after yesterday. Yeah. So, morning was…morning-like with a happy sun and bright sky and I GOT FUCKING KISSED. Shit.

Yeah. Big deal.

DUDE I GOT FUCKING KISSED!!

I decided I'd take on the day in the face of all the rumors that Grimmjow Jaggerjack was in love, and, hell, what did they fucking know anyway? They would have no way of knowing who the person was. Yeah. Only that I GOT FUCKING KISSED.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Some great someone was knocking on my apartment door, and the convenience, man; it was fucking early in the morning. What the hell. I opened the door. No one was there. Fucking prank-pulling son of a gun. Closed the door—

It wouldn't close because when I looked DOWN, some pre-pubescent dude with silver hair who was just about the height of my waist from the ground had his fucking arm wrenching the door back to open—

"**Kid, Halloween is not 'til fucking seven months from now; save your trick or treatin' 'til then." **

What with his high-quality captain costume and realistic Zanpakotou, you'd think he was a shrunken Division Captain, man. This place is sick. People can't even keep track on the goddamn calendar, man.

He rolled his sleepy eyes, and you could tell he really wanted candies, man. Creepy kids are all over the goddamn place. And then my instincts for philanthropy were reaching new heights, so I pried the goddamn door to its full extent, and here came a new headache. A new fucking headache in the form a humongous-breasted, absurdly pretty woman with long tan hair cascading down to her miniscule waistline. Man, I had no fucking candies to give them, and here they were, woman and child, inspiring the national conscience of giving alms to the goddamn poor—

"Hello, Grimmy-chan. I am the gorgeous Rangiku Matsumoto and this is my cute superb captain Hitsugaya Toushiro. We would like _you_ to come on a mission with us. We are from the Tenth Division."

Blink. Blink. I looked at the kid, and then the woman, and then the kid, and then the woman's chest…oh I remembered her. I remembered the boobs. This lovely bitch was there in the Vice Captain Daily Meeting. Yeah, that was a good show of memory from me. And then—

Captain?

This little barely-teen, scarcely five-footer, hardly-high-schooler, silver-haired brat was a fucking captain? Wow. _Soul Society is running low on manpower resources maybe I should apply for Commander-General or the mighty sitter in the throne room._

"I'm the one who killed Shao Long on the night you tried to wreak hell in the human world."

His voice was stiff cold, man. The idea of him being a Zanpakotou-wielder I could at least leave alone, but captaincy and this urchin just ain't gonna happen. Please, Shao Long was—

Oh shit.

Before I blasted Luppi's cocky ass to oblivion, he was soaking wet from melted ice courtesy of some 'Little Captain-chan' who was using an ice type Zanpakotou, had silver-hair, was shorter than he was, and was the exact same bastard who froze Shao Long to death. According to him…her. Was Luppi a boy or a girl or a boyish girly boy-girl?

Oh.

This must be 'Little Captain-chan', I supposed.

"**Oh. Shao Long was a cheap-ass weakling."**

"Some dirt in my nails, at most."

You'd understand me if I told you that I find a little kid talking REALLY big kinda scary, would you?

"So, get yourself ready now; we're departing in one hour." Pretty girl said in her pretty singing voice.

"**Where to?"**

"Human world.

"**Boring. I'll pass."**

"Ichigo-chan is going."

There. The very weapon that would transform my life into death: 'Ichigo is going/coming too/tagging along/riding along', and what the fuck. The very same fucking thing that would wedge my fucking legs to follow this duo, the recent destroyers of my morning light, to the rendezvous point. Man, I must be going out of my mind. Okay, I'm just telling you an old story because my lovely wits have deserted me three days ago; forsaken as I was they still managed to abandon me like shit; talk about defining impossibility.

We arrived at the fantastic meeting place, and sure enough, Kurosaki was there, as promised. Redhead retard was there too. And so was Tattoo-face 69. I strode forward—

Shit.

It was only yesterday that the Lovely Death of Me stole a precious thing from me. The fucking robber. He was staring at me as though NOTHING happened yesterday.

Anyway, IT WAS JUST A FUCKING KISS.

T'was nothing. Really. Just a fucking KISS. My FIRST one in fact.

"Okay, we'll be entering the portal in pairs. I'll go with my captain, Renji and Hisagi, stay with each other and last, Ichigo-chan and Grimmy-chan shall go together." Lovely Matsumoto said.

Together. Me and Ichigo.

Just splendid.

Before I fucking knew it, baby captain and big-boobed lieutenant were nowhere to be seen. And then, Renji and Hisagi were entering this low-tech rectangular entry to the human world and…I was alone with the Lovely Death of Me.

"Shall we go, Grimmjow?"

I produced an uncool nod, and, holy cow, he held my wrist, and fuck and fuck too near, too fucking near! Shut my eyes and landed on my butt somewhere. That was fast.

We were out on some human world street, and them four Shinigami who went ahead were brushing their clothes.

"Get your portable Gigai here."

And then they started inflating these dummies which looked exactly like themselves. And, one by one, they entered them; man, cool stuff.

"There. Copy the procedure, Grimmy-chan."

So I did and next thing I knew, I was in a human body and—

"IIIIIICHIGOOOOO!!"

Some middle-aged bastard who was wearing a white overcoat and was too old to act like a bastard lunged at Kurosaki, and he was kissing him all over the face, and take that, fucking robbing sonuvabitch. Hahahaha, now you fucking know what it's like to get your cheeks pecked at without your permission hahaha.

"Good morning, Mr. Kurosaki."

"Oh, Ichigo's friends! There's gonna be a party!"

Old bastard happily ushered us in the nearest house. Once inside, he was eyeing me intently. Man. I hate it when people look at me intently.

"An Arrancar, huh?" old bastard asked me.

"**Yeah. Who the hell are you?"**

"Show respect, Jaggerjack." Baby genius reprimanded.

"I'm Ishiin Kurosaki, Ichigo's father."

I couldn't see the resemblance.

"**I'm Grimmjow Jaggerjack, ex-Espada."**

"I've heard about you from Urahara. In any case, you guys should feel at home."

"We're not all staying here, but thanks anyway for the hospitality, sir." My Soon-To-Be-Murderer said as though he and politeness were really getting along. Who the fuck was he fooling?

"I understand. But my son will stay here, right, Ichigo?"

"Yeah. I guess I should."

"That's daddy's boy! And oh, Mr. Arrancar, would you like to stay _here_? Urahara's place is already cramped as it is."

Well. It clearly was a choice between being bunked in with my Soon-To-Be-Murderer plus Maker-of-Despair and The Death of Me. Two heads are more than one. I guessed less anguish meant more comfort…

"**As you wish."**

And then, came a grand reception to my consent. Renji, Hisagi, Matsumoto, and old bastard started to throw warm-colored confetti in the air and jump around like pogo sticks, apparently too happy with the fact that I was gonna stay in Kurosaki residence when for me, it was death staring at me in the face. Either that or they were a bunch of compulsive, chronic confetti-thrower. I wish it was the latter. Fuck this.

Baby genius, being the super genius that he is, cleared his throat, and right away the hopping apes subdued.

"Our mission is to rid Karakura Town of the rampant Hollow attacks that have been occurring lately. We will be the look-outs and the cleansers, so, all of you, please exercise constant vigilance. I shall take my leave now, Mr. Kurosaki, for I need to have a word with Urahara-san."

And so the four better-off-gone people headed to Urahara's and…

I was alone with Kurosaki again.

The problem with Kurosaki's house is it only has four bedrooms. Master bedroom goes to old bastard. Bedrooms 2 and 3 go to Kurosaki's twin sisters, and bedroom 4 is duh. Where does that leave me?

"You'll stay in _my _room. There's enough room for two."

Oh.

Okay.

That solved it.

You know what? That didn't solve it. In fact I was faced again with a whole new world of ordeal. Depend on me to have ten million problems on any given time. Shit. What this all goes down to is that I had to fucking sleep in the SAME room with the Lovely Death of Me. And god knows what else. With the same person who stole my FUCKING FIRST KISS. So we went up the stairs—

Just as I thought.

Shit waiting to happen.

The problem with Kurosaki's room is it only has ONE bed. My problem was there were TWO of us who were bound to occupy the ONE bed. Me and the fucking KISS-NICKING SON OF A GUN.

Since my problems for today were reaching record-breaking count, this time, it was my turn to stare.

"What? It ain't much, but we'll scrape by."

I hadn't even complained; scantly even opened my goddamn mouth. Well, he saved me some spit anyway. I swallowed real hard as I gathered a tangible sense of what could happen within these four walls. And, shit, HE FUCKING KISSED ME YESTERDAY and I just couldn't get over it. He collapsed on his bed and things began to grow far more complex than they needed to be. Man, he fell asleep right after his head touched the pillow! So I watched him without noticing I was sliding closer to the sleeping him. I didn't realize I was riding downhill with no brakes, man; I could only stop if I crashed into something—

I crashed.

Kissed him.

In the mouth, goddammit!

Anyway.

…

Goal!

Stellar success.

Or so I thought before the door swung open and two little girls were standing in the doorway, and they had just witnessed what they terribly must not!

Tell ya about the rest of the day tomorrow. Not now. Please.

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

--

**TBC**

**A/N**: Well I've been flooding the goddamn category and perhaps your mails too if you put me on alert. I'm so sorry, please delete me on your alerts already haha. It's because I'll be starting a goddamn job soon and if I don't write what's on my mind they'd probably slip away and die, never to be recovered! And once I get on this job, man, I wouldn't be able to write anymore! Okay, thanks for reading and reviewing, darlings ;)

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Bottom of Form


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: As for OOCness, I'm guilty of such, always have been because...that's my forte, NO kidding. haha, I guess merciless/savage/cruel Sexta Espada and I have broken up long ago because humor and him don't quite get along.**

--

_**Date**__: CONTINUATION OF MY FOURTH DAY as an ally to the Shinigami after getting kicked out of Hueco Mundo by the Major Bitch_

Yoh, Journal,

The day was okay. It was still morning, and though afternoon was approaching rapidly, it was okay. I was in Kurosaki's room which was okay. Okay.

Okay.

Let's go back to reality, a place and time known to me as Fucking Hell. What happened was... I nicked a fucking kiss and the next thing I knew was, I was a certified KISS-NICKING SON OF A BITCH myself, and oh the hypocrisy! Okay, I'm calm... It was faring along okay; you know, I stooped down to kiss sleeping beauty. You know, I was being experimental, and curiosity pitched me up so I swooped down and, you know, KISSED HIM. I had a lucid sense of time, which was ticking steadily while I was doing it so I can say with much confidence that the kiss lasted for around five seconds. My miscalculation was I DIDN'T have a fucking sense of place. Man. So five fucking seconds at it and two little sisters were in the doorway, and my stupefied face was met by a couple of the blankest stares imaginable, and fuck. You'd think girls of this age would be a little more respectful, and oh fucking shit. You don't go around gaping at people when they're practically 2 meters from you, man, that's rude.

"I—I—Ichi-niisan…" One of them mumbled in a trembling, squeaky manner you'd think a mouse was taking its ambition to new heights by attempting human language. The other one, one with black hair, was staring at me like I did something bad on his sleeping big brother, like I stole a kiss or something...which was actually the case, but fuck this anyway. Man, her stare was inflammatory to the max. I wanted to scamper away or disappear. I was SCARED of two harmless little girls, goddammit!

I stood up without arousing the slightest tendencies of murder in me so, no, I couldn't eliminate the witnesses to my crime, and what the fuck. They were two LITTLE girls, for crying out loud!

"**Your brother is home." **I said for the sake of, I dunno, dispelling my being a KISS-NICKING SON OF A GUN??

The twins nodded and scurried over to sleeping beauty and started pounding on his chest, and in a goddamn second he was awake. Man, I couldn't look him in the eye. They were hugging and all; such a cute sight, man. It was beyond your imaginative powers—

What the fuck am I saying?

Never mind. I stood there, uncertain of my disposition when,

"Who's your _boyfriend_, nii-san?"

Kill me.

Kurosaki looked up at me like a perfectly innocent angel, which did not at all accord with the kiss-stealer that he fucking was. My knees were swaggering from some unknown weight, or maybe Hell was pulling me down by the invitation of Satan; I couldn't tell because I just about lost half my brain in the last ten seconds, and the reduction was still on-going.

"Don't be silly, Karin. He's not my boyfriend."

There, thank you very much for the lovely clarification. For once, life was shining down on me like a smile. So that rectified my unpardonable imbecility, and we could finally get along now.

"He was _kissing _you two minutes ago."

_Oh. I didn't hear that._

"Don't be silly."

_I still didn't hear it; I just choked on my own spit._

"You were asleep so you wouldn't know."

_I'm too busy choking to death, so I didn't hear that either._

"He wouldn't do something like that, would you, Grimmjow?"

_What? I can't fucking hear you, Kurosaki._

"It's true! Yuzu saw it too!"

_La la la la la la la…_

"Grimmjow? Is it true?"

_I AM NOT HEARING THIS LALALALALALALALA!_

"Ni-san has a boyfriend!!"

In the optimistic faith that all this was just a fucking nightmare, it might turn out that I could actually survive this.

Maybe not.

"Yuzu, stop that, please. He's not my—"

"He is, too!"

_Let us hope that man's war-loving tendencies would eradicate all living creatures before this news/gossip reaches the fucking PUBLIC!!_

"**Kid, it was just a fucking kiss. It doesn't mean your brother's my fucking boyfriend."**

Since I was clearly, blatantly, obviously, and helplessly DYING and no one else in the little room seemed to be noticing it, I might as well employ a few of my inherent immaturity and talk back to a fucking LITTLE GIRL.

"See, he did kiss you!" Little girl with tan hair confirmed my crimes happily and excitedly.

Lovely Death of Me stared at me for a good two fucking minutes, and I simply couldn't take it anymore.

"**Fucking fine. But he's not my frickin' boyfriend."**

Why was I ARGUING with a little girl who was HALF my size?? So she backed away, looking gravely disappointed, even offended, man; guilt-tripping should be made illegal. Shit. She was on the brink of fucking tears.

"But it's bad to kiss someone who's not your boy/girlfriend!" Little girl with black-hair lashed at me. AT ME. For starters, their genius flirting brother had stolen one precious kiss from my lovely cheek a little less than 24 hours ago. So if she was entitled to scream at anyone, she should at ALL events be screaming at her goddamn genius BROTHER FIRST.

Of course it's fucking bad to kiss someone who ain't your boy, duh. I've known that from the fucking moment I went outta my momma's belly, duh. Jesus, what was wrong with these girls??

"Karin, sometimes, a kiss comes before a relationship. You'll understand that when you get older."

So, Kurosaki had a brain all along. But, man, that was _lame_.

"That means you and Mr. Blue here are gonna be in a relationship _after _the kiss!" the Yuzu girl said. Loudly and cheerfully. And what? 'After the kiss' happened to be NOW.

You'd think little girls were all sugar and spice and everything nice, but what with the shit I was experiencing in Kurosaki's sisters, man, Lilineth and Wonderwice would be a pair of fucking cherubs.

"Listen, you two, I'm gonna talk to you about it later, okay? Right now, I'm kinda lacking in sleep, so I'll have to rest for awhile. Is that okay with you two?"

Little girls exchanged worried glances. Little girl with black hair shot me a suspecting glance, and, with that, I gauged she was a little on the smart side; perhaps she could tell the difference between Yammy and Hogzilla. Whatever. So they toddled off the room, and I breathed again. Alas. Twins from hell finally gone.

And me and the Death of Me were alone again. Two kiss-nicking sons of guns together again.

Someone was chuckling in the room. I looked around to find out that Kurosaki was looking as though he was suffocating from something. Perhaps he accidentally swallowed a fucking pineapple.

"**What's so fucking funny?"**

He was clutching his stomach. Man, there is true pleasure in deviousness, man, I'm telling you.

"Only a kiss?"

"**Shut the fuck up."**

"You got me in my most defenseless state and you bargained for only a kiss?"

Once upon a happier time, the greatest of my adversaries went along the lines of getting Apollo Grantz to stop barging into my room, dodging Tousen's strict impositions of law and order, preventing Gin from stealing my spare pairs of Hakama, having the courage to tell Ulquiorra that he was a friggin' faggot, trying to get Aizen to realize he ain't never gonna be Elvis Presley, and other such chicken tasks. Now, in this fucking blazing inferno, I have to constantly deal with people who threaten my welfare, both physical and mental. And when I say constantly, I mean once in every thirty minutes.

"**What, pray tell, would you have me do instead?"**

"Nothing. In any case, my sister was right; you shouldn't kiss someone who's not in a relationship with you."

"**You're one to fucking talk. Remember yesterday on The Plane of Sanctuary? Wadaya make of that, you kiss-nicking fucktard?"**

"Friendly gesture."

"**Fuck you."**

"Would you rather it was _something _else?"

"**What the fuck was it?? Answer me truthfully."**

"Whatever you want it to be. Only that we should remember that it's not proper to kiss someone who's not your boyfriend; it's against social norms."

"**Well, then, will you be my boyfriend?"**

Fuck.

This is the part when time machine became a necessity. Fuck. I wanted to take it back but then if I did that, I would most likely take back that I took it back, so maybe I shouldn't take it back and ha ha ha ha maybe I should start laughing. Hahaha it was getting so hilarious that I was starting to laugh ha ha…I was laughing…WHY THE FUCK WAS I LAUGHING??

He was staring at me while I was laughing to myself. He tilted his head forward as if thinking over a difficult matter. And, man, I watched him as he was sinking in silence. Like, man, his bangs were bouncing as he swayed here and there. Such a youthful radiance, and so innocent altogether, at least seemingly so; such a carefree face and so pure at that; so pure by all means unexplainable by any synthetic substance…so lovely, so lovely in fact the whole galaxy—wait a damn fucking second. Why was I showering him descriptive praises??

"Would you like me to be?"

That shook me off. Shook the ground I was standing on that I was certain the earth was swallowing me whole and Satan had his arms outstretched—

"**Hell yeah."**

"It's official, then."

"…"

Well.

GrimmjowJaggerjack, formerly reputed to be NBSB (no boyfriend since birth) and RFS (rendered forever single), from this point on, is now among the in-a-relationship population. Kickass. Bring in the goddamn rainbows and Zeus's chariot; _we are gonna fucking celebrate!_ I looked at him, and there was the most sincere embarrassment though he looked quite ecstatic too. And I could just kiss my newly-acquired boyfriend—

"HURRAY!!"

Two people burst through the door, empty plastic cups in hand…plastic cups aka hearing aids. Two people. Two tiny people.

"Onii-san!" Tan-haired twin was tugging on my arm and rubbing her pretty cheeks against the back of my palm, and how the fuck did I suddenly become ONII-SAN??

"You take care of Ichi-nii-san, okay?" Smarty pants Karin was telling me.

It's not every day that I get speechless, I mean, man, that occurrence is rarity, bordering on impossibility, man! So I nodded, and black-haired twin started to tug my arm too, in coherence with her twin's tugging, and fuck. I guess I acquired more than just a goddamn boyfriend. Said boyfriend waded closer and kissed my goddamn cheek. I kissed back and you get the picture.

Happy day. I hope tomorrow is too. Later, yoh.

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

--

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

--

_**Date**__ : FIFTH DAY as an ally to the Shinigami of Soul Society after getting kicked out of Hueco Mundo by the Major Bitch._

Yoh, Journal,

I woke up in a cozy room, sunshine beaming down on me, smell of fabric fluttering around me, and, fuck, I HAVE A BOYFRIEND. Said boyfriend and I slept in the same room last night. On the same bed. Said boyfriend is aka Lovely Death of Me. I groped my hand beneath the sheets to find Lovely Death of Me _nowhere_ to be groped. Where the fuck was that ingrate?? After satisfying himself with his sexual urges using my body, he went about disappearing? Man, we made out last night. We made out big time, man. That was heaven, and NOTHING tops heaven. He was like so all over me that the bed was creaking like a bastard, and I was like getting the best of both worlds, living and dead. Man.

So I went to the bathroom and had my teeth brushed. I caught a glimpse at the mirror of a handsome bastard who was staring back at me… a handsome bastard who had NO MASK. Shit. That explained why it was so easy to get his mouth shoved into mine! That was the reason why my fucking right cheek felt so entirely naked! That was the answer as to why making out last night was so fucking mind-blowing! That explained why he wouldn't complain when—

So I sprinted down the staircase in restrained panic and walked into father, son, and two daughters sitting around a table.

"**My mask; it's effing gone."**

Father and son swapped bemused stares.

"You're in a Gigai, dummy. Gigais come in different designs. You can even have one without a head." Ichigo said. Yeah, I let pass the fact that he called me a dummy. Special treatment for the boyfriend. Fucking fine.

"**Oh."**

"Here's your breakfast, lovely guest."

I sat down and started gobbling in human breakfast while I suffered the twins' relentless giggles and Ichigo's sideway glances. He kept shooting these surreptitious glares at me and his sisters. My point? he looked so fucking tempting while doing it. Man, I could just chuck the goddamn bowl out the window and start snogging the bastard. But that wouldn't be like me.

"So, son, how's Soul Society?" Kurosaki asked Kurosaki.

"Full of souls and all. Being a lieutenant can be a royal pain in the ass."

"Doesn't it get in the way of your education?"

"I attend the academy on the latter half of every day, so, thankfully, I only get to be vice-captain half-day every day."

"Good. So, have you found a _girlfriend_ yet?"

Twins snorted on their cereals. I shot them my warning glare furtively.

"I'm too busy for that, dad."

"Come on, no need to be shy; you have daddy's support all the way!"

Karin was scowling at their dad; I shot her a threatening glare.

"Yeah but there's nothing to support because I've _no_ girlfriend."

Yuzu was nodding fervently in agreement; shot her a lethal glare.

"How about that girl, Rukia-chan?"

"Not my type."

Karin and Yuzu grunted pompously in satisfaction; shot them an insolent glare.

"What about Tatsuki-chan?"

"Dad, she's my childhood friend, more like my sister…brother, rather."

Twins from hell smiled meaningfully at me; shot them a menacing glare.

"You're picky, son. Aha, you won't say 'no' to Orihime-chan!"

Little girls were throwing murderous glares at their dad; shot them an empty glare because they wouldn't turn their heads my way.

"This is preposterous; I DON'T want a girlfriend."

Mr. Kurosaki dropped his head despondently. Little girls' faces were gleaming with triumphant joy.

"Well, son, good luck."

Breakfast was over in a second. I watched the girls do the household chores. Old man Kurosaki retired to his clinic, still feigning dejection at the prospect that his only son was a fucking prissy who didn't know how to ask girls out. I'll say one thing; yeah, he doesn't know how to ask girls out but, damn, he knows how to set a teal-haired Espada's hormones tottering.

"Let's pick up new clothes for Grimmy-niisan!" Yuzu squeaked.

I looked down on my matching human raiment to see there was nothing wrong with it except that I only had ONE fucking set of it. Ichigo stared at me meditatively as if I were his chief consideration.

"Commander handed us yens to spend on clothes. Maybe we should go to the department store later on."

"YAY!" Twins yelped in unison.

So one hour later we were trotting down the streets like one big happy family, human fashion. Yuzu was holding hands with her big brother and Karin was walking beside me, perhaps waiting for me to hold hands with her, which wasn't exactly what I had in mind because I wanted to hold hands with my boyfri**—**

I didn't say anything.

We entered this huge building and the colors inside made my eyes sore, perhaps owing to the fact that I used to stay in Las Noches which was monochromatic day and night and anytime in between. We got into this colossal hall and there were clothes everywhere of all types. I swear, man, Szayel would drop dead of envy if he knew I'd been to a place like this.

I wanted the whole thing to get it over with by the earliest possible means, and this desire took on a new urgency because; 1) I had no fucking idea what would look good on me so that made me a complete and utter ignorant, and if we were to prolong the affair, that would further make me MORE of a complete and utter ignorant; 2) the place was swarming with humans, you know, low-grade specimens, and the thought of breathing the same air they breathe bothered me A LOT; 3) girls were craning their necks at us, I mean me and Ichigo, possibly trying to get an unobstructed view of every goddamn part of us from fucking head to toe and front to back and inside and out. Man, murdering tendencies were going thick on me; like, I was all set up to have Cero raining like a fucking hailstorm when,

"May I have your number?"

A teenage female, about the same age as Ichigo, had sprouted from the goddamn floor or had fallen from the sky or had materialized out of thin air and was now waving her cellphone at my face.

"**Six."**

"I'm sorry?"

"**Sexta Espada."**

She was looking at me as though I was an experiment that had gone awry. And then she started giggling for reasons that did NOT exist.

"You're funny."

I looked around to make sure I wasn't in Las Noches and that this wasn't any of Szayel's pranks. Looked around fucking high and low, and still no Octava Espada in the vicinity. She was turning red as I felt my hand spring a life of its own, conjuring a tiny Cero—

"Grimmjow, try this on."

Ichigo rescued me from the jaws of homicide. The girl shifted her gaze to Ichigo and instantaneously engaged him into what appeared to me as a flirtatious exchange. FUCKING IN FRONT OF ME. Would you believe the blatancy? The nerve of some people!

I snatched the clothes from Ichigo's hands _violently,_ and if he didn't get what that indicated, I'd fucking personally send him for Sensitivity Lectures at the Psych Ward. I stormed off to the fitting rooms with Karin toddling behind me, and I could tell my fury extended right on to her. Hell, smoke was practically jutting outta my goddamn ears. So I stowed myself inside a cubicle and closed the door, which wouldn't close because Ichigo, aka the Lovely Death of Me, had his arm between the door and the jamb.

"**This room doesn't fit for two."**I said firmly, accenting my contempt very successfully.

"What was that all about?"

"**You tell me 'cos if that wasn't what ya call flirting, man, I'm probably a friggin' saint."** man, my voice escalated to speaker caliber.

"So _you_ admit you were flirting?" he solicited with a vindictive glare, man. What was up with him and his temper when he was the one—what in bloody fuck was he talking about?

"**Me? Flirting? Now you stop right there, mister. I was about to introduce her to my Cero because she was annoying me shitless when you touched down, SMILING at her as she grinned back at you, and the next thing I knew, fuck that, man. I didn't sign up for your two-timing—"**

"—ho ho! That was a fucking sarcastic smile, moron! You even gave her your number!"

"**So what?? I was Sexta Espada, geez, what's wrong with being proud of your rank—"**

"—Wa-wa-wa-wait. Number six? That's what you gave her?" suddenly his voice toned down as though we had made amends or whatever.

"**Yeah. I was still sixth when I fucking left Las Noches, wasn't I? The point is, you should at least respect the fact that I'm—"**

He started laughing so hard he had to lean on a goddamn wall to support his weight. I've already lost count on the number of times I'd been the laughing stock so I just stood there, receiving all the squalls of being the miserable butt of all jokes, because after about one million experiences of which, I'd just about proven to the world that lack of knowledge was too great an adversary to fight back. So, there, I backed down and remained silent.

"You're really funny."

"**That's the same thing the bitch earlier told me."**

"You really are."

He scooted over me with the suddenness of an alarm which made me take a step backward. He kissed me. Some orange-head REALLY knows how to get me sedated and have me forget my name.

"Er, nii-san, maybe you should try your new clothes now." Yuzu was saying sheepishly. Ichigo pulled away, and as soon as he did, the fact that four other faces gaping at us became apparent.

What the fuck.

To hell with meddling sons of bitches. I wouldn't give a damn.

I didn't care until I recognized the faces.

The great truth: fate really, really, really hates me to the most astonishing degree.

"What do we have here?" Rangiku Matsumoto was saying because she was the first or perhaps the only one who recovered. And now I dubbed her My Current Tormentor.

I'm tired. I'll post my next entry tomorrow.

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

--

**TBC**

A/N: Okay, this sucks. Bleach 318 is out. Y'all should read it.


	7. Chapter 7

--

_**Date**__: SIXTH DAY as an ally to the Shinigami of Soul Society after getting kicked out of Hueco Mundo by the Major Bitch_

Yoh Journal,

The smoldering, fiery pits of Hell…

…is Heaven compared to this. I can't remember having been dunked into a tighter spot than this. I mean, one moment ago, I was into this super sweet moment, and one bewildered second later, I was being tossed into…I forgot what I was gonna say. I was gonna describe a place where… you know what? You can't describe it with anything like accuracy. Man, it was horror far exceeding my worst nightmare, and that's coming from someone who has once dreamed of having Gin as a molester and himself as the _willing_ victim. Willing. That was just a dream; doesn't mean I wanted it to be a reality—what the fuck am I talking about??

Okay I will unload it now 'cos, yeah, I have to do this. I dreadfully must.

So, boyfriend kissed me at the department store as I felt flowers grow from the ground I was standing on when shit happened. When he stopped kissing me (which was shit in itself, mind you), Renji, Shuuhei, Rangiku, and baby genius were drinking in the spectacle, completely being the intrusive spectators that they proved to be, and oh lovely god.

Ichigo turned his head halfway around without exhibiting any form of discomfort or disapproval to his fellow Shinigami's godless nosiness. He was so composed like hell that I felt like wanting to drop eight million hints that we needed to scram or murder them before they employ their jerking-around expertise, which is a total sell-out among jerks like them. I'm telling you.

"Is there an emergency, Toushiro?" boyfriend asked. That shocked me. I mean, we were like caught in the most uncompromising position, and here he was, asking something coolly as though he wasn't being bullied by jerks when in actuality, the jerks were off to prise his wits away from him, us.

Baby genius cleared his throat and played along with boyfriend's game of nothing-happened-so-we're-all-cool. "Not exactly. We'll be having a meeting in an hour at Urahara's."

"Okay. We'll be there."

Baby genius nodded and turned to scram, but his entourage wouldn't budge. I'm telling you, something evil was cooking, man; something far more unprecedented than me being fate's favorite. So the lovely trio wouldn't budge and baby genius had to tell them off,

"We've relayed the message; let's go, you three."

Lovely trio wouldn't move a fucking inch.

"Would you do that again?" Rangiku, aka My Current Tormentor, phrased a request, and she was all so eager you'd think she wanted to be kissed herself.

"Not now, Rangiku-san." Boyfriend declined calmly.

"Please?" Hisagi, aka Maker of Despair, said in a manner which was suffused with all the hopefulness for what probably was a wonderful promise.

"Hisagi-san, please, this isn't something funny."

"It ain't funny; it's beautiful." Renji, aka my Soon-To-Be-Murderer, said brightly.

"Renji, don't be a retard at this very inconvenient time."

"Please?" All three of them said, drawing closer to me and Ichigo. Karin and Yuzu were too busy ogling at baby genius and his silver hair to notice that three jerks were pushing their brother and brother-in-law within inches from blowing up. _Just where the fuck is Pantera when you need him?_

What was being shown here in full demonstration is that I had arrived at a point where I should quit life altogether. In the world of if's where Aizen RULED the land alongside Gin, Tousen, Ulquiorra, and all them bastards, where Renji Abarai and Hisagi Shuuhei weren't a pair of bastards, and Rangiku Matsumoto wasn't a bastard-in-progress, I'd probably sail along and perhaps manage to get some clean slate of happiness from time to time. Unfortunately, the reality is, Aizen and his gang are being quiet in biding their time in Hueco Mundo, while Renji and Hisagi are a pair of bastards and Rangiku is a bastard-in-progress. Given the chance to choose, I'd go for the former. Point blank.

"**That does it. You fucktards are asking for it. Three on one. Bankai releasing will be allowed. Meet my Pantera in 20 minutes—"**

"—yeah, yeah, sure, but _please _do that again—"

"—Just quit it with the fun-tripping; this isn't something to treat your mischief with or something to poke fun on. This is not a matter of comical hilarity." Dear boyfriend said sternly. Man, sometimes his seriousness intimidates me. I would've clapped if I could afford it, but as you well know, I was surrounded by a gang of the most vicious of jerks.

"So you guys are really serious about each other? Like, you're in a relationship?" Current Tormentor says, and what with her eagerness, she could just pull out a pen and a notepad from her pants.

"Guys, we're running late. If we don't get at Urahara's in time, I'm gonna have to make your asses pay in Soul Society. That's a captain's promise." Baby genius said coldly that it sounded very much like a threat.

The three wonderful people groaned all at once as though all the goddamn fun in the world had been cancelled.

"Toushiro, we're just gonna purchase these clothes and take my sisters back home. Can you guys go ahead of us?"

"See you in 45 minutes."

Twins said goodbye to baby genius as the lovely trio trailed behind him.

So we pegged our way to the counter, paid our stuff and darted home.

Next stop: Urahara's place.

Turned out, the meeting was all about the Commander appearing into some gigantic screen casting out orders left, right, and center that it surprised me he didn't ask us to fucking wash his used wardrobe. Baby genius kept on nodding that you'd think he was having involuntary fits of something. After the pointless show, we dispersed to attend to some things more important, or at least we wanted to attend to something more important than tarrying around for practically NOTHING. But then Urahara Kisuke made shit happen,

"Is it true, Kurosaki, Grimmjow? You're dating?"

It then became absolutely transparent to me that Renji, Hisagi, and Rangiku were capable of bastardizing the entire planet in a matter of twenty minutes. Living, walking, breathing proof of that was Urahara Kisuke, a bastard waiting to happen.

"Yes, Urahara-san. Is there a problem with that? If so, please speak of it." Ichigo said. I was amazed to the end of my wits, man. This wasn't mere audacity; it was outrageous guts. Yeah, that's my boy for y'all. But as what I have said, Urahara was making shit happen…

…again, and again, and again…

"No problem at all! I was just wondering if you're interested in bearing a child of Arrancar and Vizard hybrid—"

"Jesus Christ, Urahara-san, don't be ridiculous!" Ichigo burst forth with indignation; you'd think he had turned into a tomato, what with his redness. As for me, I couldn't see what was wrong with the idea. I mean, we could get married and have a few kids, yeah… I fucking dropped my marbles somewhere along, and fuck all this—

"I am capable of merging these two very different specimens. And I would be honored to take over the procedure—"

"I don't want to fucking have a child, at least not at this age! And what with all the things you've achieved so far in the name of science and technology, I'd have expected your judgments were qualified enough to distinguish neither of us has a vagina."

I didn't know what to say to that. If you can counter that, I'll get myself pregnant here and now.

"I've had experiments of male pregnancy, Kurosaki, and they were all SUCCESSFUL." Urahara was as calm as a fucking hippie amidst all the monstrosities issuing from his mouth. It was getting crazy enough without the three lieutenants joining in the carnage, which made me thankful to the fucking heavens. Man, get a load of this guy if you're pining for a terminal brain illness; that's the most sure shot recommendation I've made in the entirety of my existence.

"**Not interested."**

At least I said something.

"That settles it. If you change your mind, you know who to call." Dr. Sicko said smartly. Three lieutenants stopped munching on their popcorn, looking deflated.

"Yeah, I'll _call _you. That's _possible _under the circumstances that Renji here isn't in love with Byakuya and Kenpachi is a friggin' faggot; basically, when the whole fucking world has turned upside down." Boyfriend said somberly; spell this: COOL.

Redhead practically blew up, "Now you take that back, Ichigo. Where the hell did you pick up that garbage??" like, so mortally offended you'd think someone had snatched his 'King of Jerks' title from him.

"From you, duh! You keep calling him every night just to whisper 'goodnight' to him. Man, at least I ain't that cheesy."

Hisagi, Urahara, and Rangiku sweat-dropped. Baby genius guttered out of the room. I wanted to follow suit but redhead was looking as though he was gonna release his Ban Kai on Ichigo…

Redhead was now also a redface. "So? At least we don't fucking kiss in public!"

Well.

I was never good in retort combats and—

"Aha! So on which places do you kiss your captain?!" Ichigo yelled back, and so before my eyes, before _my _very fucking eyes, he was turning into a jerk with all his injurious rebuts and, man, I gotta bustle outta here if I didn't wanna transform into a full-blown jerk within the span of five minutes. Urahara transferred to a seat beside Rangiku and plunked his hand in the bowl of popcorn she was holding, which, perhaps, was the right course of action, seeing as everything was morphing into a very cinematic scene.

"Any place where people CAN'T fucking see it, unlike you!"

The three watchers were munching so hard on their popcorn that I was on the verge of my first anxiety attack.

"Really?! Well, at least I haven't gone as far as getting access beneath his Hakama; man, that's just indiscreet; he's like your top official!"

And there went my beloved boyfriend, receding to the old Lovely Death of Me. Jerk. Okay, let's say everything is sliding down to my desired effect and am allowed to purge the world. Say, we take out all the goddamn jerks in the whole wide world and the only thing that'll be left standing is…

ME.

That doesn't sound like a good idea. If your boyfriend's a fucking jerk, live with it.

I was experiencing infinity, an infinity of continuous bitching. So, if you think there's a need for me to narrate the rest of it because it's FUN, you…

…you…

…you don't fucking exist. This ain't fun; it's atrocity. Talk to ya tomorrow.

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

--

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

--

_**Date**__: SEVENTH DAY as an ally to the Shinigami of Soul Society after getting kicked out of Hueco Mundo by the Major Bitch_

Yoh, Journal,

Some major cliché is going down. And I mean, down right at us. You know, it's never really the biggest bully in the playground that breaks hell loose; it's always this snotty, featureless, frail little kid who always hangs around at the edge of the park that throws the first stone that will be the first blood. In my case, it's NOT Ichigo's childhood sweetheart, the girl next door, the first crush, the neighborhood heartthrob, or the new girl in town that's gonna signal the end of my lovely romance and perhaps existence; it's always the BEST FRIEND.

Boyfriend's best friend MUST fucking die.

So it was only yesterday when Renji and Ichigo were on each other's throats, aiming to perhaps discover who would drop dead first if they went about broadcasting to the whole damn world who of them was more of a faggot. That was yesterday. Today, however, was a fine a day. Was a fine day if a certain redhead of an idiot was roaming six feet below the fucking soil.

So I woke up at around 10 am and wasn't surprised to find Ichigo still asleep beside me on this narrow bed. He had his head on my chest. He was entrancing as hell, man. I thought I was still in a dream.

And in a second, I went about WISHING I was still in a fucking dream because I started hearing this impatient tapping on the window, which was at that moment being demolished by some redhead jerk.

"Open up!"

He was hollering from the outside, and one look could tell he was being pursued by something really, really dangerous that you'd be sure he'd die right before your eyes if you didn't let him in.

Boyfriend stirred awake to give the jerk access to my fucking nerves; he opened the goddamn window.

"What's up, Renji?" Ichigo asked as I tried to refrain from punching the lights out of redhead retard.

"Man—oh, good morning, Grimmjow—Ichigo, you gotta hear this: X-games Asian Tour is in town, man; we gotta grab tickets now, I mean now!"

I rolled my eyes in the hope of getting my dismay to extend to the both of them, and I might as well fucking hope to someday get Stark's ass to fucking manually sweep the Las Noches floors shiny sparkly clean.

"Really?? Oh fuck, man, tickets run out fairly rapidly; gotta grab 'em soon!" Boyfriend's nerves loomed visible on his neck, threatening to pop out. He jumped off the bed past me, completely ignoring my wondrous existence. I could hear him scrambling about in the toilet, washing his face and brushing his teeth so vigorously that I was scared his gums would goddamn bleed. He rummaged his closet, with me being the LAST thought in his mind, and what the fuck. I curled back to sleep, diffusing quite an abundance of DISINTEREST, and waited for dear boyfriend to notice ANYTHING remotely connected to my presence.

"Faster, dude. Ticket booths open in a minute!"

This heightened Ichigo's panic. "I'm at it, man!" in a flash, he was all dressed up and was sprinting over to the window, and what with his haste, he just about nearly broke his neck on approximately six million pieces of furniture.

Boyfriend must have forgotten he had a fucking boyfriend awaiting a teeny weeny little greeting from him.

"Oh, Grimmjow, don't cha wanna come?"

At long fucking last, someone managed to din it in his fucking head that a handsome teal-haired, kickass, 6-foot something Arrancar was on the bed. Someone happened to be Renji.

"**Whatever suits you."**

"Okay, we'll buy three tickets. Stay here; we'll be back in a sec to pick you up."

"**Whatfuckingever."**

You'd think some people would get the fucking hint, huh?

They disappeared faster than anything else, though not faster than Renji managing to spread jerkness, and off to some place where I hoped wasn't as conducive to bastardization as Urahara's place. But then I was probably carrying my hopes a par up dreaming BIG because any place where Renji is is a potential bastard breeding ground. There's nothing wrong with dreaming big; just don't hope, and all shall end up the way you expect it to.

I fell asleep again. Man, I always get sleepy if Ichigo ain't nowhere near.

It was already past morning when I woke up, thanks to my genius boyfriend and his super genius best friend who started about making a hideous racket over three pieces of small paper with prints on them. Like, wow, I was promptly educated about what my value was. I mean, Ichigo never got that excited and that much caught up with bliss when I was fucking his brains out last night.

"Lay off slacking, Grimm; we're heading to the skate park!"

I didn't know what a fucking skate park was, but with the sensation it was spreading over these two idiots, it should better be more of a killer than having sex with Grimmjow Jaggerjack. It better be.

So we bounded off to this action-packed place which almost caused Ichigo and Renji to pee in their goddamn pants.

It turned out, the place was oozing with gaping bastards. They kept pointing at us, man. There's a thin line between curiosity and rudeness. Handsome as I am, it was still improper. I was scowling here and there and was all ready to spit on a few lovely faces when,

"Quit it with the PDA if it bothers you." Renji said.

"**What the fuck is PDA?"**

"Public display of affection. You two are holding hands, if you haven't noticed."

I looked down on my hand and so did Ichigo, and, yeah, redhead was correct. We pried our hands apart.

We squeezed our way through a thick crowd to get a view of some guy who was doing acrobatic stunts on a wheeled tiny vehicle—

"That, Grimm, is a skater. The wheeled piece of wood beneath his feet is called a skateboard. This huge curved platform is called a half-pipe..." boyfriend explained.

I could feel his hand reaching out to mine inside my pockets, and there was nothing else to do for me but to respond to it. His fingers tangled with mine—

"Whoa! Did you see that, Renji?! That was a fucking slick Stale Fish he did on a twenty-footer!"

And hand-groping romance was over in a second. Jesus, what was so fucking grand about doing random flips in the air? They even have those fancy names for them which probably take up a lot of brain space—

"I'm quite sure it's Japan Air 'cos he grabbed the board with his right."

"Yeah, but, man, that was airy, man, really airy."

Okay. Admittedly, the show was something. I mean, these dudes weren't resorting to reiatsu and they were visibly defying gravity with the aid of some small piece of junk, so maybe it was worth giving a few credits—

I felt ichigo's skin sliding into my arm which automatically stunted my mental appraisals for the show. Maybe we could get this day going without me pissing—

"Shit! He didn't just switch to a Blunt Slide from a 50-50, or did he??" Renji was literally doing some superb boyfriend-stealing moves as he fucking wrapped his arm around Ichigo's shoulder, unknowingly _shoving _me a foot away as he did so. I understood it was all out of some worshipful excitement, but, man, if he were to do that again, man, shit would happen.

"Man, that was a Nose Slide to Blunt Slide. I'm telling you, this guy ain't from Earth."

No one seemed to be picking up with the fact that I couldn't relate to any shit they were yapping about. So I laid back in silence and tried with sincere effort to absorb what the guy up stage was pulling. And then boyfriend placed his arm around my shoulder, after which he shot me a smile which was comforting; yeah, had to admit that. So I smiled back—

"Jesus, Mary, Joseph! Ichigo, this dude ain't for real! Rodeo McTwist to Crossbone, shit, man!"

Renji was practically _wringing _Ichigo's collars. If we were somewhere else, there'd be no mistaking his actions for anything other than choking-my-boyfriend-death. Ichigo whacked his arm from my shoulder without noticing he knocked the back of my head in the process, causing me to jerk my head forward. And now he had his arm _around _Renji's shoulder. Spectacular. Well, I say, fuck this—

"I swear man, I ain't gonna miss any of his runs. Let's take a picture with him later—"

"He's at it again! Man, this is the best two-minute run ever since Shaun White a year ago!"

Renji was hanging on the edge of his seat, pulling Ichigo along with him. Away from me. To be quite honest, I was finding the spectacle before me rather inviting of my attention. But some jerk-ness of some redhead, in addition to the insensitivity of some orange-head, was overriding all else that was happening that altogether, the situation was excruciating.

"You okay, Grimm?" Ichigo asked.

That shocked me to death. If that didn't shock you, I dunno what will. I mean, I actually existed? I was cocksure I'd evaporated two minutes ago.

"**Fine."**

He ruffled my hair, leaned in closer to me that I thought he was gonna whisper something. But he was gonna kiss my temples instead—

"INSANE!! Told ya he was getting some shit not less than 9.1!!"

Renji, the finest kiss-suspender the world has ever seen, was jumping up and down that he was causing quite an embarrassment to the entire human race, and what would you know? His almighty contagious and influential jerk-ness had enchanted Ichigo too, and now there were two embarrassments to the human race, jumping their assess off shitless.

You know, I really have NO business with Renji Abarai being very prolific and lucrative in his profession, that is, jerking around, but what it poses for me is equivalent, if not identical, to having a Siamese twin relationship (in terms of proximity) with him for as long as I have Ichigo by my side.

Maybe I should give up paradise if I couldn't endure Hell's heat—

"He was brilliant! See that, Grimm?"

Boyfriend was as happy as Aizen fucking his Hogyokou. He was on his feet and was smiling down at me and wouldn't take his eyes off me; not even when Renji started to jump higher. He was all gleaming with such delightful gladness that I was starting to feel relief coursing through—

What the fuck. I'm happy where he's happy. If he's happy with redhead fuckface, I'm…

I'll try to be happy with Renji, come hell or high water. Come Jerk-ness Incarnate or Master Bastardizer.

So, there's our three-man date for ya. Ciao.

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

--

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

--

_**Date**__: EIGHTH DAY as an ally to the Shinigami of Soul Society after getting kicked out of Hueco Mundo by the Major Bitch_

Yoh Journal,

What with all the pain and suffering in the world, you know, Aizen wreaking evil left, right and center and Gin employing his molesting tendencies up and down and front and back, it seems SHALLOW to whine about not having enough time with your boyfriend or being pissed to death by his pals. But you see, you're not this boyfriend-starved, sex-deprived, oppressed bastard; it's ME. So if you have a gripe about me being a complaining scumbag, I suggest you listen to me first before you jump into conclusions.

So there I was last night, reaching orgasmic heights and getting lost in heavenly pleasure when—

_Ring…ring…ring…_

Ichigo's cellphone started to raise fucking hell in the room, hushing the activities of my blood and aborting my ascent on stairway to heaven. I reached out for the accursed object to chuck it out the fucking window when Ichigo beat me into it. Only that instead of chucking it to oblivion, he pressed the 'answer' button.

"Hello?" Shuuhei's voice could be discerned from the earpiece.

No one really takes the trouble to be essential when they're around me. I couldn't make head and tail to answer why in blazing hell Ichigo would forfeit heaven to hear his pal's voice ranting over something as significant as a fucking TV show.

"What the fuck, Hisagi-san, it's ten in the evening."

"That's the point! Tune in to EXPN, man; get a load of Bucky Lasek! And why the fuck are you panting?"

"I'm with Grimmjow, dummy—I mean—sempai."

"Oh…Did I disturb something?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Oh…ha ha ha…I'll cut the line now. G'night."

Ichigo slid his phone under the pillow, promptly delaying the continuation of our activity. He really did put me past my patience 50 times just by answering the goddamn call. So we resumed to where we took off and he did me off really good, man. He really knew, I mean with fanatic precision, where to get my strings moving.

The morning after was nothing special; it was just your usual hell.

We met up at Urahara's place to await Commander Geezer's orders, which, I guessed, were some elementary shit to abide by; like hack and slash hollows here and there and wherever, and to sum it all up; old geezer was probably up to sneaking tons of airtime on the Shinigami monitor to see how good he'd look on big screen later on in replay.

So we waited like fools rounded up for execution as it became clear to us that the fucking connection got somehow winded up and it would take a damn long while to get through to the other line. And then Renji decided to kill boredom…

…and me along with it.

"You had quite a lot of fun last night, huh?"Renji asked boyfriend. Everyone in the room cracked a killer smirk.

Ichigo was looking daggers at tattoo-face 69, who returned the favor by feigning innocence. It's quite a wonder how these people MISS on noticing that they're filling the town and the neighboring ones with bastards and that the magnitude of damage is beyond reparable, WHILE, at the same time, they're capable of noticing the slightest indications of my actions that can potentially cast me to abject humiliation.

"Don't look at me." Hisagi told Ichigo defensively.

Renji was laughing the life out of himself and shaking his head, "Here, Ichigo, you called my phone last night, but you weren't answering. And then I heard these strange noises…"

Fuck. I remembered that after Hisagi's gloriously correct timing of phone conversation with Ichigo last night, the latter buried the shit beneath his pillow, and—

"—Next time, make sure to lock the keypads, okay?" Matsumoto lectured.

"And don't stick it under the pillow. It's a good thing my name's the first one on your contact lists; if it were someone else like the commander or Captain Ukitake, man, I'd have to hand you all the luck and prayers in the world." Redhead said.

If it were someone else whom the heroic pillow misdialed, you know, someone NOT Renji, I'd probably be NOT in this wonderful state where I had to bear the unnecessary torture these brilliantly bastardic Shinigami were inflicting. I'd probably be in a state where I wouldn't have to think of ways on how to end this misery that was my life.

Berry-head was rubbing his forehead which was really helpful seeing as these bastards were just about as vulnerable to subtleties as a toilet seat is.

Urahara was waiting for his chance to speak until, finally, his chance showed up, "Moreover, you guys should use protection. I don't have condoms in the shop but—"

"**Enough already. Geez. It's just sex. We know what we're doing." **I said.

That cut their discussions on safety precautions. Baby genius groped down to his pockets and produced a small device, which would later on be introduced to me as an MP3 player. He then stuffed the earphones in his ears and maximized the volume. I wanted to fucking snatch the shit away from him and treat myself to a deadly profuse ear-bleed. Man, I was so envying him.

"Tips, man, I could use them." Renji said.

The jerks propped their chins on their palms and sat so close to each other that their eager cheeks were rubbed together. For me, I mean, strictly for me, the conversation had taken a turn which I never would wish to pursue. Obvious reasons are as follows: 1)They were being the sadistic bitches that they are and were fucking poking fun for the sake of sending me one fucking step closer to my grave. 2) I've forgotten already because these fucktards had just about wreaked bloody havoc in my brains that I could no longer distinguish which felt better between sitting on a bonfire or drinking soda in summer. 3) I still can't recall. 4) Fuck this.

"Who gets to be on top?" Rangiku asked.

Let's reevaluate here; they're sadistic and I'm a masochist. We were all getting what we wanted, supposedly; they were torturing me and I was allowing them to, so why the fuck wasn't I happy?

"**Me."**

Ichigo's jaw must have gained 40 pounds upon hearing me answer.

"Favorite position?" Hisagi asked.

If you hate yourself so much, like so much you're inclined to torment yourself, you can satisfy your masochistic urges my ramming your balls on your Zanpakotou's hilt. But if you plan on evading being a sterile no-nutsack, you can just hang out with dudes like Renji, Hisagi, Urahara, and Matsumoto.

Matsumoto pressed each of her palms against her young captain's ears before I answered,

"**It's damn tattooed on your cheek, dummy."**

"Oh. Cool."

This shit was never gonna end, and I could just pack my bags and do Satan a favor and knock on his door instead of having him send a fucking minion to fetch me. Man, these gits were sounding as though they never got laid EVER or never got their hands on the mildest of pornographic materials. Man.

Zzzzzttt….zzzzztttt…

Some static noise was heard from the monitor whose screen was starting to produce obscure pictures. Commander Geezer came in sight and was clearing his throat.

Old Geezer started, "I will be dispatching you from there tonight. You all, save Kisuke, shall return here in Soul Society for further instructions. I will be sending you back there again after you have been informed of the plans for preparation. We will be getting ready for the decisive battle."

The message sent chills coursing down my nerves. It was still too early for that. Aizen must have been itching too much in the ass for sitting day and night on his goddamn throne.

"And when will the battle be, Commander?" Baby genius asked.

"In a month."

Everyone gasped. I almost did too.

"Captain Yamamoto, I do not question your judgments, but it's only been two months since the Hogyokou was stolen. Could Aizen have found another way to assemble his aims, produce his dream army?" Hisagi asked with much seriousness. Jerk under cover.

"Kisuke, time for you to speak." Geezer said reverently, to which Urahara nodded promptly.

"It must have awakened already. I see no other explanation to the strange Arrancar activities lately and their massive reproduction." Dr. Sicko answered reservedly. Jerk in denial.

Everyone gasped again. I didn't, though.

"**Aizen's breeding bastards. He does it faster than you guys can screw my mood."**

They're faces sank to solemnity before collapsing to utter obscurity.

"This can't be real. It's absurd…" Renji scuffled to phrase the remainder of his speech, sounding truly disturbed. Jerk trying to be otherwise.

"Whatever the case is, we are preparing for battle." Baby genius said. Not a jerk.

"Captain is right." Matsumoto agreed. She-jerk pretending to be something else.

Old Geezer nodded, marking the closing of the show.

"There you have it. You will ALL report to me in person tonight. Good day to you all." And he was gone.

We were all staring at each other with eerie shadows in our faces. For once, I wanted these bastards to recover the former mood in the room and be the jerks that they are. Ichigo was staring at me; some form of understanding was linking our gazes. Right then and there, our days together were surging back at me in a fast forward pace, and I started to wonder if they could all be gone in a blink, just as how they had come to us. Could it all recede to nothingness as momentarily as they appeared? Can they?

At length, Hitsugaya spoke, "Comrades, will you die for Soul Society and the world?"

What a lousy pep talk that was. Man, it was cheesy as lasagna. But then I was being an idiot because I was the only one who made a face at something which, apparently, wasn't something to make face on. I really don't get Shinigami humor.

"If fight to death is what it is, yeah, I'll give it my all, even my life." Renji said with such a conviction worthy of ten sentences of descriptions, which, by the way, will not be provided by me. Duh.

"_Wrong._" Baby genius said flatly. For a moment there, I wanted to point a finger at Renji and laugh hard at his wrongness in-your-face style. But baby genius continued talking, "You will NOT die for Soul Society or for the human world because you will NOT die AT ALL. You will not die on your comrades and on your friends and families. There will be no 'til death do us part', no fight 'til death, no honorable deaths because there shall be NO deaths whatsoever. We will no longer suffer any deaths in Aizen's hands. We will be strong. We will _end_ him."

We were all looking at him, and everyone's face was brimming with something that very much resembled admiration. Not mine, though.

Baby genius spoke again, this time to ME, "Grimmjow Jaggerjack, what will you give to assist us in ending him, him who was your creator?"

His scariness did not decrease, man, even after I'd remembered he was as tall as my waist. I knitted my eyebrows because I fucking knew not how to answer that; I mean, I didn't wanna end up like Renji being right on the smack WRONG. I looked at boyfriend who was looking distressed, man. And he stared back at me for a long time. It made me feel something, some fluid force which came from a definite place somewhere in my chest and I almost did not hear myself mutter…

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

--

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

--

_**DATE**_: _nth day as ally to the Shinigami of Soul Society_

Yoh, Journal,

I'm this close to giving up on writing on you. It's been three weeks since then, and I don't really see the point of that habitual practice catching up with me all over again. It's just that he destabilized me. It's just that lately, he has occupied the larger proportion of my mind that I could barely think straight, much less trouble myself with groping for my vocabulary to fill the pages of some notepad.

So it was last night when the rain started pouring down, smacking our human bodies black and blue. He had just been to the Vizard's lair after doing some mask-on training when suddenly, baby genius popped into the window and we all got summoned to the undying big screen at Urahara's place.

Old Geezer announced that the chick Orihime Inoue got abducted by an Arrancar whose descriptions fitted perfectly well to a certain bastard I know. Ulquiorra Scheiffer. That was when Ichigo lost his thread. Man, that chick must have been really someone to him. And he further lost his marbles when Old Geezer announced he wouldn't be lifting a finger to reacquire that Inoue chick. All went hell from here when he elaborated that there'd be no means he'd allow Ichigo to die like a dog in Hueco Mundo in trying to save the girl. Well, the best I could say was, fuck this. Really. But I couldn't really barrel my sentiments aloud because two formidable dudes shafted out of nowhere. And, man, I was sure Renji and Rukia would crawl under their pants.

"We're given orders to take you back to Soul Society."

Turned out those two dudes were captains; the most famous ones in Soul Society. Well—I could tell—I do have perceptive powers, if you must know, though close to zero.

"You're coming with us too, Grimmjow Jaggerjack." the 10-footer something dude with tiny bells on his hair ordered; I mean it sounded _this_ far from a request or a suggestion. Demanding bitch.

"**Yeah, right, that's fucking gonna happen.**" I talked back. And then there was this quicksilver change of mood from everyone as though I said something that paralleled with me getting killed.

I counted to three. I was still in one piece. What the hell was wrong with these dudes? He was just a captain; like, I'm a captain level, and, yeah, he had scars; pretty scary-looking, he was tall; kinda intimidating; his eyes reflected twenty million murders, and…yeah, I'll stop right here because the best I had pulled dangles around a thousand murders and he could just dice me to ten pieces on any given day.

I'm a blabbermouth so I didn't stop jabbering,

"**I'll stay behind. That one who took that chick was Ulquiorra Scheiffer the Fucker. The other two who made the diversion were Yammy the Fatty and the retarded one was the youngest member of the family, Wonderwice Margera. If Aizen had already gone to that measure, like sending such troop to the defenseless town, man, someone has to stay behind. It must mean the bastard really MEANS business." **

Well. That has to be the longest shit I'd uttered. I was waiting for my round of applause but what with the pitiable Shinigami humor, they just stared at me blankly.

"I will honor that proposal under the conditions that you will do your job of securing the town. Kurosaki will be stationed there too. As for the rest of you, Shinigami, I'm pulling you out." Old geezer said. He can be a pompous royal ass sometimes.

So all them dudes except me, Ichigo, and Urahara were marshaled into this magic door and out of the human world. Ichigo had his gaze fixed on an imaginary point. He was trembling like crazy, man. I wanted to shove his damn face on something. He turned slowly to Dr. Sicko,

"Urahara- san, can you—"

"—I will. But it may take a while."

I didn't know what they were yapping about, but asking one dumb question, it seemed, would require quite a careful handling so I just shut up.

So, back to the present. I'm fucking alone in his room, and this time, it's different. What his absence left behind is conveying something else; I can't trace his reiatsu. He's gone to thin air. I feel like dismantling the entire house when this piece of paper idling on the bedside table seizes my attention. I read it,

_G,_

_Don't come after me. I'm going to rescue my friend. I'm sorry. I'll get this over in a moment. I will see you soon. I'll come back alive._

_I_

Well. I can feel my head losing ground and collapsing by the hundreds. He doesn't know what he's up against. I'll tell you: he's up against my friggin' marbles and the strongest of Aizen's bitches. For I all know, he may be dying out there. He's probably dying now, like so dead, already dead that he can't die ANYMORE. It's just all too terrifying; that's as rational as it can get. I imagine Ulquiorra blasting a hole in his chest. And then there's still the top three Espada. If somehow…

If someone tells you I'm an asshole, don't fucking believe that. He is the asshole, the biggest one in the universe for fucking scaring me shitless. Oh, Ichigo, I'm gonna pull you outta the depths of hell if I have to beat the shit outta your erratic ass. I mean, who leaves his boyfriend behind worrying like a faggot??

I head to Urahara's.

"**Open it. Now."**

"It's open. I knew you'd follow Ichigo the moment you learn of it. Go on now. And please be careful."

Humbled by my mistake, I nod at the sick bastard, **"You bet I will."**

So here I am, roaming the sandy planes of Hueco Mundo, in a hopeless search for an orange-head bastard who has exhausted all the possibilities of my temper going back to its normal rate. And I am still writing on this stupid notepad. I scud my way to the deathless Las Noches palace, and, man, my guts are cringing from the remembrance of all the boredom this goddamn building has served me in the past. Fuck this.

I traipse past the entrance and fuck. I can feel reiatsus colliding here and there, and to simplify it, all these are boding shit. However, I can't feel the top ranking Espadas' spiritual pressure. But then—

That has to be Ulquiorra. And there's someone else, someone so familiar. And maybe so dear.

So I'm here now in the throne room, standing back and watching and restraining my reiatsu with no absolute guarantee of any consequence. Yeah, I'll jump in, cut in between them, and stop their battle. It's just a match between a Vaizard and a formidable Espada.

Ulquiorra releases. Now here's a scene that's gonna do me in. If there was an adjective for 'pissed to death and beyond and beyond and beyond', I'd use it along ten million strong adverbs to describe what I'm feeling now. Ulquiorra is like beating the hell out of Ichigo. Like, I can just close my eyes and count to ten, and when I open them finally, I'd be damned if Ichigo hasn't dropped dead yet.

I'd like to kick his eyes out. Ichigo's eyes. Fucking moron. I look at him and I remember last night. We were on our way to his house, soaking wet from not entirely the heavy downpour. There was something else. Like his insides were lamenting desolately. I realize he was trying to say he could disappear the next day and never to return. I'll change that.

Yesterday, under the pouring rain, we kissed many times. Shit. Me and my sentiments. I can just kick myself in the nuts...which isn't even possible, anatomically speaking. So yeah, that's something I wouldn't do in a million years.

Ulquiorra is creeping me out. I'm sure the bastard has detected me but he ain't doing anything. Well, technically, he's doing what a lamp post always does; being a fucking hard-headed bitch who likes to annoy the shit out of anyone. Solution: fucking tell Ichigo that this is my friggin' match and not his. So he better run away with the Inoue chick like a faggot. Yeah, he'll understand. I mean, I'm more in the round with Ulquiorra and all.

So yeah, now it's clear to me why I bestowed Ichigo the name The Lovely Death of Me. He really is gonna be the death of me. Somehow vaguely, I've always known that. Hell, maybe I'd die for the bastard. Who knows. Not me. I'll jump in now and leave you, dear diary, here. Keep my secrets with you and never tell. Bullshit ha ha ha. Alright, you can let anyone read you. With that, Grimmjow Jaggerjack shall pass on his legacy to whoever may read this, and that whoever shall grasp that the pivot of this writing shit is my definition of lo—

—just what the fuck am I saying? I'm not gonna fucking die here, jeez; it's just Ulquiorra. In his release form. Dammit. So, I'll retrieve you later. Wait for me like a docile servant. I'll bury you under this stupid rock and leave you be. Take care of my goddamn pen, okay? I want it still filled with ink when I get back, if I _ever _do. I'll jot everything down as SOON as I get back. If this happens to be my last entry, though god forbid, be honored my words ever graced your pages. So, for now, feel lucky to hear this:

"**Grind, Pantera."**

_Signing out,_

_Grimmjow Jaggerjack_

_--_

**NO ENTRY FOLLOWS THIS ONE.**


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